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A Shifting of Life	By : Strailo Category: Bleach > General Views: 20784 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters. Tite Kobe does. I make absolutely no money from this or any fanfiction I write.

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Title: A Shifting of Life
Fandom: Bleach
Part: 48
Series: A Shifting World
Characters/Pairings: Jin, Ichigo, Aizen, Ulquiorra, Byakuya, Rukia
Warnings: violence, language
Word count: 2135
AN: Reposted 7/18/20

*~*~*~*

There was a storm brewing over Soul Society when Jin Karyia stepped through his portal and into the Seireitei. Ichigo had perched on the edge of a roof, watching him arrive as her hair fluttered in the wind. She was tucked behind a miniature shield that Urahara had created based off Aizen’s zanpakuto’s ability to conceal his nature.

Aizen was still rather amused that Kyoka Suigetsus was still ranting about a third-rate scientist stealing his shikai.

Ichigo shifted and sent Aizen an amused look at the soft chuckles that came from him, Byakuya shaking his head. “Is he still complaining?” she asked as she stood up. He turned brown eyes to her and smiled, admiring the way that she filled out the shinigami uniform that she had gone for for their fight.

“Indeed he is,” Aizen chuckled as he patted Kyoka Suigetsus hilt, the zanpakuto finally quieting, having started to feel what Aizen was feeling. “Though he has finally quieted down so that we may focus on this last fight.”

“He kind of seems almost bored with it all, Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra said, his green eyes watching the way the Bount looked around. He indeed looked bored, his red eyes flicking over the empty courtyard of the Eighth division. As usual, the division was off for the day, everyone who was to be there scattered and waiting for orders. Cameras had been placed around the division, watching what happened carefully with several Twelfth division members waiting for the moment they needed more help.

“So he does,” Aizen said, eyes watching as Jin flicked his hand behind him, uncaring about his surroundings.

“I do suppose that I should go greet him,” Ichigo said, standing up and stretching. “Ulquiorra, can you go grab Rukia?” she asked as she settled her mind and body for the battle to come. She was more than ready to deal with the last Bount, physically and emotionally balanced with her power and her zanpakuto.

“I will do so now,” Ulquiorra said, nodding his head and leaving them to head to where they had Rukia held. She was bound and waiting for them to be brought over to the fight. Nodding to Aizen, Ichigo left the shield and hopped down to the ground, walking over to the man. Her soft footsteps echoed, bouncing off the walls of the place they were.

“Kariya Jin. Bount, leader, and wielder of Messa,” she said, holding a card and looking as if she was reading from it. Jin looked up, surprise flashing in his eye for a split second. He didn’t show his surprise though as he looked her over, taking in the uniform that was built for ease of fighting along with the tall zanpakuto that sat against her back. It was held in place with a braided red rope that crossed from shoulder to hip.

“And you are?” Jin asked as he took in the lean curves of her body with the second sweep of his eyes.

Ichigo smiled as Ulquiorra dropped down next to her with Rukia thrown over one shoulder. She turned back to him. “You should know who I am, Kariya,” she said. She pointed over at Rukia. “After all, you’re here to try to kill me because of her. Of course, I do have to wonder just why you wanted to take such a request from her, especially since she’s so mentally unbalanced. And obviously so.”

“Her requests allowed me and my Bounts to enter Soul Society, so why not?” Jin chuckled. Ichigo just smiled sweetly at him.

“I suppose that is true. Unfortunately for you though, Rukia did mess up quite badly. When she went to you, she really should have used a different name to discuss things and the Bount Yoshino should have kept quiet about who asked you to kill me,” Ichigo said. Ulquiorra dropped Rukia down, ignoring the glare from the woman. She had her arms bound behind her back with sealing wraps and a sealing collar much like the one that she had worn when she had been dragged back. A length of cloth kept the cuffs around her ankle close together.

Even though she was glaring, she was quite obviously tired, having usually stayed up late at night during her imprisonment to write whatever was on her mind.

Her glare turned to Ichigo, who just gave her a bored look in return.

“I’m starting to think that something has happened to my dear Bounts,” Jin drawled. The wind started to pick up around them as Ichigo chuckled, shrugging.

“You would be surprised what you can set up when you have a few days to plot and a team of brilliant tacticians willing to plan things,” Ichigo stated. “Especially when one of them helped to teach me while I was in Hueco Muendo.”

“I...see,” Jin drawled. Reaching into his vest pocket, he carefully pulled out Messa, stroking the top of the card case with a smile on his lips. “Tell me, what happened to them?”

“To be quite frank, I can’t really remember. I know that those who lost their Dolls ended up going to dust somewhere between twelve hours to a day after, if not immediately after. And one turned on you once a friend of mine used his silver tongue to convince him to change sides,” Ichigo said. She shrugged with a smile. “I believe that he’s in a really nice cell right this minute with a typewriter, writing out his life as of right now,” she mused.

Jin chuckled. “You and your friends may have won against my Bounts, the weak things they were, but I am much stronger than they are,” he said after a moment of staring at her. The card case glowed and shifted into the pata sword, the blade gleaming in the light.

“Pretty sword,” Ichigo mused as she reached back, grasping the hilt of Zangetsu. The fabric wrapping around the blade fell away, allowing her to pull it forward. Holding the large zanpakuto to the side, she shifted her stance to bring Zangetsu up before her. Her hands wrapped tightly around the hilt, the silver along the edge gleaming. “Come and attack, Karyia Jin. Face your judgement.”

“My judgement, is it?” Jin laughed, falling into his own fighting stance before he lunged at the young woman, their weapons clashing with sparks. The wind started to pick up, whipping around them and pulling hard at their clothes. Several tears appeared in the fabric, her skin remaining untouched.

“I should probably tell you that Kenpachi taught me a few tricks to keep me from getting hurt from such pathetic attacks,” Ichigo stated as they pulled apart. She slid a bit before stopping, her eyes dark. Jin looked a bit on the surprised side as she tucked. “Now, try again, Jin.”

They came together again and again, sword and zanpakuto clasing, Jin trying to figure out Ichigo’s power base. He snarled when he figured out that she was fluctuating her power randomly and on purpose. Messa screamed with each hit, the sound one of anger instead of pain. Zangetsu instead sang in his mistress' hands, feeling the joy of a battle against a worthy opponent. Loving being able to let loose without worrying about hurting them.

Zangetsu could feel the cool determination in her to walk away in one piece and be the victor of the fight. It filled him with determination, spurning to be the best partner and zanpakuto that he could be.

Ichigo had started to dodge, their weapons creating gouges and destroying a wall when their hits missed their opponent.

Sliding back, Jin stood straight, holding Messa loosely as he started to chant. “The Great Winds, come before. The Great Powers, into me,” Jin chanted, the winds picking up around them. A tornado touched down and went after Ichigo. She yelped and started to bounce out of the way, doing so several times before she was able to fire off a Getsuga Tenshō, destroyign the tornado and landing on the ground, panting and glaring.

“Now, that wasn’t really nice of you,” she pouted as she stood straight, falling into her fighting stance. “I’ve heard that you can use wind without your Doll, but to me it’s been like I’ve been walking through Karakura Town during the winter months while a storm is moving in,” she taunted. Jin just sneered at her.

“Wind Licht Shcneid,” he growled out, slashing his sword harshly, sending a slim but powerful blast of wind at her. Ichigo shoved herself out of the way to crouch on a broken piece of rubble, staring at the gouge that the attack had left. “Enjoy that, little mouse?” he smirked.

“I am as far from a mouse as one can get,” Ichigo snorted at him. She noted that Ulquiorra had gathered Rukia and moved them out of the way, most likely when they had drawn their weaponry. She could feel Byakuya, a just barely there connection on the edge of her senses. “You should ask Ulquiorra-kun how un-mouse like I am. Especially since he usually ends up walking away with several new bruises from our spars.” She stopped before smirking. “Well not walking away considering how most of our spars end.”

“What an annoying little bitch,” Jin snorted, sending another blade of wind at her. He found himself surprised that instead of dodging out of the way, she cut through the attack with her zanpakuto. Instead of teasing, her face had become one of cold indifference, rage so cold that it radiated off her.

“I do not care for that word. In any form. I have never once used it against a woman even when she deserved it and I do not appreciate it being used against me,” Ichigo stated. Her reitsu tightened around her, like a snake preparing to strike it’s prey. “The only exception that I will ever make is for you as a warrior, which means that I will not be playing fair now.”

“Fighting fair? It is never a fair game,” Jin sneered, unsettled by the mocking smirk that spread over her lips. He squashed the feeling, ignoring it.

“Oh no, it can be. See I can wing a fight without having to turn to down right tactics,” Ichigo cooed, eyes wide. “The thing is, one of my main sparring partners and a teacher is Yoruichi. And when she needs to, she’s not afraid to take a cheap shot to win a fight.”

“Cheap shots...I see,” Jin muttered, his eyes narrowing. He flipped back out of the way when she fired another Getsuga Tenshō at him. His surprised was evident on his face though when she met him when he landed, their swords coming together with a clash of blades. His eyes widened even more as he suddenly felt a sharp, almost burning pain bloom up from his groin from where she had planted a foot powered with her reiatsu.

“Cheap. Shots,” she purred dangerously, grinding her foot with a sneer. He gasped and squeaked, stumbling back and cupping his abused balls. “Did I break anything with that? I’m told that my leg power is amazing considering i can do shunpo so damn well,” Ichigo said, almost as if she wasn’t in the middle of a battle and tried to pop his nuts with a pot shot.

She could feel every male watching them cringe from what what they had just seen.

“You absolute slut,” Jin gasped, firming his hold on Messa and trying to focus enough to condense spirit particles around them in an attempt to attack her.

Ichigo snorted and funneled power into Zangetsu, hardening his blade before she rushed forward, slicing Mess in half. Jin stared at the broken blade in disbelief, not feeling as Ichigo continued her motion and sliced into his shoulder, breaking the lines of his seal. Falling to his knees, he stroked over the broken blade as he felt the connection between him and Messa break apart.

“Did you ever know that a Bount’s strength and weakness is their Doll, Aizen-san?” Ichigo asked softly, Aizen landing next to her and watching Jin start to turn into dust.

“No, I didn’t know that,” Aizen mused, pressing a hand to her back.

“It is. Their Dolls are an extension of their souls, so much like our Zanpakutos. But unlike us, when their Doll is destroyed, it dies and takes them with it. The Dolls are their way of staying alive. It’s a painful way to die from what we know. They have lost what had stopped them from aging, that little bit of power.”

“It is really too bad that they chose the path they did,” Aizen soothed. Ichigo nodded as Jin, who was gray in color but not fully turning into dust yet, was gathered and taken away.
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A Shifting of Life